


I Think I Lost My Halo

by planetarypoe



Series: Forget Sanity, My Morality [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Denial, Grief/Mourning, I'm Sorry, M/M, spacing fixed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5558255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planetarypoe/pseuds/planetarypoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I thought he was dead once before,” says Finn to the silent room. “When we crashed on Jakku, and I couldn’t find him, and I wrote him off. And he was alive!” They all still look so exhausted. He tries again. “It’s the same now! He’ll turn up here in, what, two weeks?” Still, it’s only blank faces. He doesn’t believe this. “Come on! You’re telling me you honestly believe that Poe Dameron, the greatest pilot in the Republic, could ever be the only casualty of a routine mission? And look,” he smiles, laying down his trump, “he promised me. Okay? He promised me that he would come back. He’s coming back.” Finn leans against the wall. “He’s coming back.”</p>
<p>
The only sound in the room is Dula, sobbing into their hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think I Lost My Halo

**Author's Note:**

> Some responses I received to this fic: “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, n-o, n, o” , “oh god” and my personal favourite, “you know I don’t like you Alex”. I think that sums it up pretty well. Name from the Twenty One Pilots song Polarize. I had to throw the jacket in there. I’m sorry. If you hate me at the end please leave a comment to tell me why!

_It's a simple, routine mission. Poe's not even meant to be fighting, just lurking as backup, in case there's trouble with the dozen or so First Order dregs the ground crew are rounding up. It’s nice that they can afford to do this, that they have the time and people to keep everything as low risk as possible.  
_

_But suddenly there's smoke and lights and yelling, and_ three _fucking TIE fighters are rising up from nowhere._

_Well, Poe can handle that. The red team bursts out of the tree cover and launch an offensive, Poe singling one fighter out and following it away over the forest. The trees whip below them as they speed by, exchanging fire, nothing Poe's not seen before. He dodges easily, rattles off a couple of shots and –_

_There isn't even time to say "I'm hit!" between feeling the violent shudder and the point where something blows. The X-wing is torn apart in the air and plummets to the ground. It burns for two hours before the rest of the Red team finally find it, and by then there's not much left of anything._

*** 

Finn's worried. He trusts Poe to take care of himself, of course, but he still sits and fidgets on the main run as soon as the six hours the mission should take is up. 

It’s not as if missions have never overrun before, but he was asleep when Poe left in the early hours of the morning and that means that they haven’t seen each other for at least twelve hours – far too long for Finn’s liking, who goes out of his way to meet Finn in the hangar and the mess, drags him back to their shared room as often as possible just to spend time together. 

When Poe does leave, they like to share lazy morning kisses and promises. 

They didn’t get that today. Poe’s started to insist that Finn gets more sleep that’s not disturbed by nightmares, and that he shouldn’t wake him when he leaves. Finn argues that if Poe wakes him up then either way he won’t be getting the flashbacks, since they’re better – not gone, but better – when Poe’s holding him. 

They’re working on it. 

Shouting from across the run shakes Finn out of his thoughts. The fighters are back. 

He stands, smiles, and waits. He tends to get in the way during the landing and debriefing process. He’s lasted a few hours. Ten more minutes won’t hurt, not now he knows Poe’s safe. 

Watching the chaos, though, he frowns. Something is wrong. The pilots are moving carefully, speaking quietly, in the way that means something happened. Something bad. 

He takes a few steps forward and stops to breathe. Poe is fine. Poe is fine. He has to keep repeating it in his head, though, as he walks towards Poe’s second-in-command, whose name he can’t quite remember right now, who lifts off their helmet when they see him coming. 

The look on their face says everything. Finn stops. The world spins, everything sickeningly bright and loud, and Finn almost falls because there’s no-one supporting him, Poe’s not there, _Poe’s not there_ , and Finn’s first awful thought is that he promised, he said he’d always come back, he’d always come back to him and _he’s a bastard liar why did I trust him how could I trust him he’s not coming back he’s not coming back to me he lied he lied he’s never coming back but he promised_

“Finn!” Rey is there, right in front of him, right there. “Finn, you need to breathe. What’s wrong?” 

“No,” Finn chokes out. “No, no, nonono this isn’t happening.” 

Rey looks terrified, but she gets it together. 

“Finn, you have to try and calm down. Breathe deeper, slow down.” She gestures to someone, “I need to get him to medical.” 

“No.” someone says. Finn realises it’s himself. He stands up a little, calming his breathing as much as he can. “No,” he repeats. “Take me to command. I have to know. I have to – this isn’t right.” 

Something in his voice makes everyone listen to him. 

*** 

It’s been a long time since Finn’s been in command, but he knows this is not what it normally looks like. Everyone seems muted. It’s like he’s watching the room on a screen, the volume turned right down. 

Maybe it’s just him. 

He realises that everyone is properly quiet, not talking, listening to Poe’s second-in-command – Dula, Finn remembers suddenly. 

“The show was normal,” they explain. “The ground team didn’t pick anything up on the final recon, but partway through the attack, the Order’s numbers doubled and the flight team noticed TIE fighters trying to break away. They followed them, and eventually all three were shot down while the ground team finished off the ones in the compound. 

“We’ve taken 14 POWs, but unfortunately WC Dameron’s X-wing was shot down. We located the wreckage, but were unable to find a- to find him.” 

The room sharpens into focus. 

“You didn’t find him?” Finn asks. He has to be sure. He has to know. 

Dula looks at him, surprised, from where they are slumped against the holo module. 

“No, we didn’t.” They didn’t find him. “We looked for hours, but the parts were scattered and the main body was mostly burned up by the time we reached it.” They didn’t find him. “I’m so sorry, Finn.” 

Finn almost laughs out loud; he keeps it confused on his face, though. 

“Why? What the hell do you have to be sorry for?” 

Looking around, no-one else gets it. No-one’s smiling. They don’t understand. 

“I thought he was dead once before,” says Finn to the silent room. “When we crashed on Jakku, and I couldn’t find him, and I wrote him off. And he was alive!” They all still look so miserable. He tries again. “It’s the same now! He’ll turn up here in, what, two weeks?” Still, no-one gets it. He doesn’t believe this. “Come on! You’re telling me you honestly believe that Poe Dameron, the greatest pilot in the Republic, could ever be the only casualty of a routine mission? And look,” he smiles, laying down his trump, “he promised me. Okay? He promised me that he would come back. He’s coming back.” Finn leans against the wall. “He’s coming back.” 

The only sound in the room is Dula, sobbing into their hands. 

*** 

At least Rey leaves it a while before coming to find Finn where he’s sulking in the woods. Sometimes, he wishes she didn’t have the force so he could know that he’d be alone for a while. They never came here together, but he knew she’d be able to find him, with the same certainty that tells him they’re all wrong. Finn trusts Rey. Why doesn’t everyone else trust Poe? 

She sits down heavily next to him. Her eyes are red. Her hand is trembling in his. 

Neither of them speak for a long time. They listen to the river. 

It is the wrong time of year. The setting sun is warm and golden on their skin. Last time Finn was here, he’d started shivering in the evening, towards the end of their day-long picnic, one of the rare times that neither of them had duties for a long enough time to do something special. And Poe had said, “as great as all of my clothes look on you, babe, I ain’t willing to give them all to you.” And Finn replied, the flirting coming easily to him after a year of dealing with Poe’s wit, “Well, that’s a shame, because I reckon you’d look real good in a… minimal wardrobe.” Smirk. 

“And then,” Finn says, without really knowing why he’s telling Rey this, now, “he pulled a bunch of blankets out of nowhere. And we stayed out until the stars came out and he told me all their names, and about all the planets he’d been to, and all the battles he survived…” 

Rey buries her face in his neck. “I’m sorry, Finn,” she gasps. “I’m so, so sorry. But I – I can’t feel him. Anywhere. And I don’t think–“ 

Finn pushes her away. “What the hell are you saying? Rey? Even you don’t have any faith in him! I thought you, of all people, would get it.” He scrambles to his feet, furious, towering over his best friend. “But you’re just as blind as the rest of them. You aren’t special. Your precious Force? It’s bullshit, you just aren’t strong enough to know the truth.” 

Some part of him knows he’ll regret saying those things later. But now, he feels so alone that he can’t worry about that, so he leaves her crying on the ground. He can’t trust anyone but Poe. 

*** 

Finn’s numb. Around him, people talk about Poe Dameron, greatest Resistance pilot to ever fly the skies, fantastic friend, brave commander. They’re reducing him to words and labels, as if it will hurt less once Poe is stripped to nothing. And they’re burning an empty fucking funeral pyre once the sun sets, because there’s no fucking body, because he’s not fucking dead. If they all knew him so well, they should know that he’s fine and he’s making his way back to the base. Slowly. But apparently no-one here has ever actually met Poe Dameron. 

Any (slightly filtered) speeches on the topic, however, means people looking at him like he’s a sad little injured puppy that they can’t help. Finn’s used to being looked at piteously. It doesn’t mean he likes it. 

Rey catches Finn’s eye across the room. They haven’t spoken, not since he said those awful things to her. If he’s honest with himself, he’s been avoiding her. But now, she clenches her jaw and nods once, carefully. Everyone’s so careful now. He’s glad that they’re okay, though. They might not be good, not yet, but they’re okay. 

Everyone’s going to be okay. 

*** 

At night Finn’s starting to crack. He’d gotten used to sharing his space with someone, in such an intimate way. It was somehow more than just existing close by each other. There was something so simply wonderful about lying in Poe’s strong arms and smelling his smell, like sunshine and oil and the sky all at once, or squishing up against him when they were four to a bench in the mess hall, or holding his hand as they walked through the base. It had been outrageous, to begin with, but it became comfortable, like slipping on a well-worn jacket. 

That’s gone now. He sleeps alone and he wakes up terrified, has to readjust to calming himself down from the panic attacks. No-one ever could do it as well as Poe. Rey had tried, when he was out flying, but she couldn’t fill his mind in the same way. The first time Finn and Poe met was pure panic, but since then he’s come to be a sweet and soothing comfort. Finn manages to scream into his pillow so he doesn’t wake up the other pilots in his block, and it only takes him about an hour to calm down on his own. 

Now, though, now the panics and unwanted thoughts are so much worse. When Finn thinks about Kylo Ren and reconditioning and bloody fingerprints it’s a dull fear and remembered pain, and he can imagine beating the shit out of everything to feel better. 

The first time Finn thinks he’s not coming back his fist slams into the wall before he can even think about what’s happening. The pain makes him gasp, it wasn’t meant to hurt that much. 

It feels good, though. 

How can he fight his own thoughts? He needs to be totally sure, so that when Poe returns, an easy grin on his face and five weeks’ worth of jokes and stories rolling off his tongue, he can say, “I knew you’d be back,” with absolute certainty. Poe will know if he’s lying. He can’t be lying. He has to assert the truth, and punish those thoughts. 

The fucking Force, however, means that Rey is standing in the doorway just as he pulls his fist back. She doesn’t say anything, but Finn’s hand falls to his side and he slumps back onto the bed. It dips when Rey joins him, back to the wall. Her hand sits open on her crossed legs. Finn takes it. 

The Force doesn’t heal, or at least, Rey can’t use it like that yet. Finn doesn’t know how it works exactly, but her fingers do feel nice when they smooth their way over his injured hand. 

“That was fucking silly,” she says. Finn agrees. Rey’s moonlit profile is striking. She looks supernatural, her head tilted back against the wall, her eyes closed, bathed in silvery light. He almost expects her to crumble away when he squeezes her hand. Instead she glances at him. 

“You know, I never apologised. For what I said. I was just angry. I’m sorry.” 

She suddenly reminds him of Maz Kanata, the way she stares into him like she can see his soul. But she just tilts her head and he knows he’s forgiven. 

Rey lifts Finn’s hand, inspecting it in the moonlight. 

“You know, I’d deck you one if you weren’t so bloody keen on doing it to yourself.” 

She lets it drop, and he hisses when the raw edges hit the rough blanket. 

“Plus, I don’t expect Poe would have approved-“ 

“Don’t,” Finn breathes, “don’t talk about him like that. He’s alive.” 

“He wouldn’t have approved if he was here,” Rey finishes. 

The correction doesn’t make him feel any better. 

*** 

Finn is still not sure exactly why it happened then. But the fact is, in the middle of a chat with a couple of friends, watched by a hangar full of pilots and mechanics, two days before three months after, he falls to his knees and his heart tears open and he really, truly knows. 

Poe is never going to come back. He broke his promise. He’s dead. 

He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead he’s dead _he’s dead_

“I know,” Rey soothes, rocking him, “I know.” Her voice barely even cracks this time. Finn wonders if he’ll ever be able to think again without wanting to scream, if he’ll ever be able to sleep again. He doesn’t know if freedom is worth this kind of pain. 

He doesn’t think he knows anything anymore.


End file.
